Vader was resolute.
He would not allow Sabé contact Kenobi. The man—his brother—had already destroyed all that Vader had held dear. If he ever saw him again, he didn't know what he would do.
The thought had occurred to him upon leaving Luke's rooms, in his desperate attempts to ignore the... confusion that the boy radiated. He knew exactly who Sabé had been talking about earlier, but if Ahsoka didn't come through, if Ahsoka didn't want to do this, then—
Kenobi had been the one to hide Luke away from him, immediately after Padmé's death. He was sure of it. And he was sure that if the chance came again, he would not hesitate to come and teach Luke the weak ways of the Jedi, to turn him against his father, steal him away again…
Vader stormed down the corridor. Sabé's office was just up ahead, and he ducked to the left and inside without bothering to knock; she yelped and dropped her comlink.
"Vader!" she snapped, cutting off the connection immediately, but Vader had already seen the tiny blue hologram before it vanished.
"Of course," he boomed, "Senator Organa is your Rebel contact."
"I don't know what you're talking about. He's an old friend who happened to call to check up on me." She glared. "Now, what is it, Vader? I am certain that you're not here to tell me that you changed your mind about telling Luke the truth."
"I have not caved to your ridiculous request, no. I am here to further discuss the matter of who will train Luke."
She rolled her eyes. "I have already told you who I've sent for."
"Indeed. And I support your decision to choose Ahsoka." She blinked in shock at that, but Vader barrelled on: "However, if she is somehow unavailable, or refuses to come, then I have one demand."
Sabé's lips were pursed. "And what demand is that?"
His finger sprang out. "You will not send for Obi-Wan Kenobi."
She did not stiffen at the implicit threat. In fact, the only physical reaction he got from her was a calculated, contained raise of her eyebrow. "Oh?"
"We have had this argument already. He kidnapped Luke the first time. I will not have him do so again."
"General Kenobi was one of the greatest Jedi Masters to ever live," Sabé observed. "You don't want him teaching your son?"
"I am intimately familiar with the failings of his teachings. If I see him again, I will kill him."
Sabé said, "Isn't that what you used to threaten Luke with?"
Vader flinched back. "You—"
"Kenobi would also be the best option for convincing Luke, once and for all, that he is not his father, don't you think?"
"I don't care." The finger point came out again, but again it had no effect. "Do not dare send for him. I am not losing my son to him again."
"And you're afraid to face him?" Sabé asked.
A roar was his only response. Sabé observed disapprovingly as a shelf of flimsi books and datapads collapsed to the floor.
"I will not send for him," she said. "I will promise you that. There are plenty of other Jedi survivors who you might not be so," she eyed her books, "touchy about."
Vader was silent for three rasps of his respirator. "Thank you," he said at last.
"Get out of my office."
He left her in peace—leaving the books still scattered on the floor, as well.
"How should I look for when she arrives?" Luke asked, nervously touching a jacket with royal reds and blacks. Vader, standing in his chambers let out a noise that almost sounded like a growl; Luke winced.
"However you desire." Vader's reply was gritted out. "She is not one for materialism."
Luke raised his eyebrows at that. He'd known that Jedi were known not to cling to possessions, and to dedicate everything to the Force, but... "I thought Nova said she wasn't a Jedi?"
"She isn't." Nova strode into the room, then, dressed in a long, dark green tunic cinched at her waist with a brown belt of interlocking rings. Her hair was down in its curls, rather than exquisitely styled; she still looked lovely, but the obvious lack of formality and effort she'd put into her appearance put Luke more at ease with his own clothes. He put down the fancy brooch he'd been eyeing; the jacket, over his plain shirt and trousers, was enough. "But she still doesn't care about these things. She'll judge you for you."
Luke shifted uncomfortably.
Nova, without missing a beat, strode over and ruffled his hair. "And she'll definitely like you."
He ducked away before she could mess his hair up even more, grinning to himself.
She came less than an hour later. Luke had wanted to meet her out on the front steps, the ones that overlooked Coruscant and the traffic lanes, but Vader was... strangely insistent against that. He claimed that it was to do with security risks, but Luke frowned at him and thought it might have more to do with the fact that the Imperial Palace used to be the Jedi Temple...
Either way, it meant that he met her in one of the receiving chambers of his throne room instead, after one of Vader's guards had escorted her in. He didn't know what Vader's guard had said to her on their journey, but by the time the doors opened and she strode in, she looked highly amused and Luke could... sort of sense discomfort and irritation from the trooper.
Then he fixed his eyes on her.
She did not have her eyes fixed on him—she was watching Vader instead, with naked curiosity and suspicion—so he allowed himself a moment to be surprised before he reassembled his features back into the mask of indifference. She was... not what he'd expected, from Vader and Nova's descriptions; she was tall, very tall, as Togrutas often were, with dark blue stripes on her montrals and white patterns on her face. And what she wore... it was obvious that she was a fighter, he thought, from the way she moved to the clothes she wore to the look in her eye, even without taking into account the two lightsabers hanging from her belt.
But she slid her gaze off Vader soon enough, smiled broadly at Nova then transferred that smile to him. He found himself relaxing, slightly, which she seemed to smile even more in reaction to.
She bowed, deeply and with flourish; he got the sense she didn't know what she was doing and was enjoying it immensely. "Your Majesty."
"Don't." He started forwards immediately and stopped right in front of her as she rose from her bow, craning his neck to meet her gaze. "If you're going to teach me, don't call me that."
"Then what should I call you?" she asked, shifting her weight onto her right foot; her montrals swayed around her head.
He stuck out his hand, a little hesitantly, shoulders tense. She noticed, tilted her head, and her gaze softened. "I'm Luke."
Just Luke.
She took his hand, in the sense that she clutched his forearm and shook it like that. When he didn't flinch away—just blinked in shock—she pulled him in for a brief, affectionate hug before she let go, gentle but firm all at once. It startled a laugh out of him; he beamed up at her, and she grinned back.
Luke had heard horror stories about austere, cold, distant Jedi, who forsook love and attachment and power for a greater good for themselves. He'd known that Palpatine was a nothing but a liar, would've wanted him to believe that, and he trusted what Nova had said about them, but...
Actually meeting an ex-Jedi who was the total opposite of that, he thought, helped more than anything.
"I'm Ahsoka," she replied. "It's lovely to meet you, Luke. And lovely to see Sabé again." She smiled at Nova... then her gaze became calculating, in an amused sort of way, when she glanced at Vader. "And you, of course, Anakin."
Vader nearly roared in his hurry to spit out, "That is not my name any more."
"As you say. Now," she carefully slipped an arm around Luke's shoulders; when he didn't flinch away from the contact, even welcomed it, she pulled him more tightly against her side in a half-hug. "Are we ready to start training?"
Luke smiled.
It was decided. He liked her already.
Ahsoka was having a slightly different experience.
When she noticed the small, white pendant on Luke's neck, she froze. Horror and dismay rose in her throat.
Where had Luke got that snippet?
Had… had Vader ransacked Padmé's tomb for it?
She'd corrected herself almost instantly, there in the throne room, and allowed something in her—something that missed Anakin and Padmé fiercely, and rejoiced to see their son—to soar when he smiled so broadly at her. But even as she introduced herself, even as she mentally resolved that's it, I'm adopting this kid and Anakin can't stop me, her eyes kept returning to the snippet.
It was nestled against Luke's heart, so it clearly meant a lot to him. And it should, it was likely all he'd ever get of his mother… but Ahsoka could tell he was a sweet boy, as she carefully hugged him, ready to retreat if he showed discomfort, and she doubted that he would have robbed him mother's tomb. She doubted Sabé would have let him.
Which meant that it was Vader who was to blame.
Later, she couldn't help but ponder it. Anakin... had always been very... intense about Padmé. (Well, about everything.) She didn't know why he'd turned to the dark side, why he'd become Vader, but... Obi-Wan had told her enough about what had happened on Mustafar just before she arrived.
She knew what he'd done to Padmé.
If all that intensity, all that emotion, had been channelled and funnelled through the energies of the dark side...
From what Sabé had conveyed, Vader cared about Luke. He genuinely did. He wanted to protect him, to keep him, and to know him as his son. Despite the... less than ideal circumstances he himself had wrought.
But he'd cared about Padmé, too.
Ahsoka blinked. Shook herself, and smiled down at Luke when he stopped outside of a door to cast her a quizzical look.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
He was so small. Even Padmé hadn't been that small, when she'd known her! Anakin certainly hadn't!
"I'm fine, S—" She stopped before she could say it. Sure, he was Skyguy's son, but he didn't know that, and that probably wasn't the way to tell him. "I'm fine. Is this the training room?" She glanced up and down the corridor; it was nicely carpeted and decorated, as most of the things in the Emperor's wing of the Palace seemed to be, but gaping spots on the walls where artwork had once been told her that apparently Anakin had started remodelling here as well.
Luke nodded, and hit the release button for the door. Ahsoka stepped in—
And sucked in a breath.
It was a large room—one of the training rooms from when this had been the Jedi Temple, in fact, she was pretty sure, and stars that hurt, walking up the steps she'd walked away down had hurt, and seeing her home twisted and warped like this hurt even more. It had a high ceiling, with a mezzanine level that overlooked the central floor; there were mats already out, a rack of lightsabers and other weapons on the far wall, a skylight shining down above them...
And the whole place stank of darkness.
She shuddered at the feeling—it was dense with the dark side, here. It had been bad enough sensing what Anakin's bright light had been corrupted into, but this... this was years of it, all piled on top of itself time and time again, years of rage and pain and anger fuelling brutal strokes, years of...
She glanced at Luke. He was still smiling politely, but he was stiff, and his hands were frozen on his legs.
Years, she thought, of terrible, horrible training.
"This is nice," she said, and the lie was obvious in her voice. Luke shifted uncomfortably—until she clapped him on the shoulder. "But I feel like it's not what we want. Is there a garden around here?"
Luke's shoulders sagged, and his smile became something a little more genuine.
"Yes," he said. "There is."
It was a large garden. In fact, if Ahsoka wasn't wrong, it used to be the Room of a Thousand Fountains, which sat oddly with her but she said nothing of it. It had been expanded, more exotic plants added, but the skylight still shone down on it, fountains and artificial streams still tinkled, and the place was filled with light and breezes.
It was... probably the most pleasant place she'd seen since arriving, if she was honest.
"How much time do you spend here?" she asked him. She could... sense him here, more than anyone else, more than the choking darkness that still dwelled, months after Palpatine's death.
Luke blushed. "Not so much as I used to," he confessed.
"Why not? It's lovely."
He shrugged. "At first, I didn't want Vader knowing about it."
Ahsoka tried not to wince. Oh, how badly had Anakin messed up, how badly had he hurt Padmé's son, this was so much worse than she'd expected...
"And then recently, I haven't needed to," Luke admitted.
Ahsoka... let out a breath, at that.
Smiled.
"Alright," she said, pointing to a small lawn, where they could seat themselves on the grass. "Let's sit down, and get meditating. I'll teach you how to defend your mind."
Luke learned well. She was careful, and they were painstaking when it came to learning each other's boundaries, how comfortable he was with using the Force in various capacities, and he was a very good student. Attentive, curious—he even interrupted her to ask questions, sometimes, which, from what she'd heard Sabé, was a very good thing.
It meant he trusted her.
But... the whole experience, and also just being here, at the heart of the Sith Empire, training the Emperor to be something like a Jedi... it had really driven home what Obi-Wan had asked of her.
She knew that Obi-Wan wanted to train Luke—when Sabé had first contacted Bail and he'd contacted them both, they'd agreed that they would do it together. Their very different approaches to teaching and to the Force would work well in finding a balance, they'd thought, and it would be good to be able to see—and confront—Anakin together.
But then Sabé had made it clear: Obi-Wan was not to come. Under no circumstances should he be the one to come.
And their plan was shot, but Obi-Wan still wanted to meet Luke. And Ahsoka needed him to.
She had no idea what she was doing.
This was Anakin's son—Anakin and Padmé's son! He was so sweet, and worked so hard, and deserved so much; she had never taught anyone before, and she had no idea what she was doing. She wanted Obi-Wan here, so at least she knew she wasn't failing massively, but Vader... wouldn't stand for it. Even if Luke needed to meet him.
Ahsoka was no Jedi. She'd made that choice, and then the Order had fallen, so she never would be again. She needed Obi-Wan—if only to at least have had some opinion on the situation.
And, she thought, judging by the thick darkness... Anakin might need Obi-Wan as well.
There was no way she'd be able to smuggle Luke out of the Palace. Not if she wanted to keep her head. But maybe...
Maybe there was a way to smuggle Obi-Wan in.
It was the third day of their training session in the gardens that Ahsoka introduced him to the strange man. They had been meant to teach him to shield his mind and slowly use the Force to levitate small objects—meditation was not a skill of his, but he found he enjoyed it a lot, particularly moving meditation—and she'd even started teaching him the forms, giving him one of her own lightsabers.
Now, though... there was a man in the garden. One he didn't recognise.
The man just smiled kindly at him. "Call me Ben."
Luke just blinked.
There were no guards who watched them when he learned—Vader had somehow clocked that neither Luke nor Ahsoka would appreciate their presence while he was trying to concentrate, and simply had them ringing around the very edges of the garden instead. And Ahsoka was clearly trusted not to hurt him—after much, much, much arguing between Nova and Vader—so it shouldn't be an issue.
This man shouldn't be an issue.
Luke eyed him suspiciously anyway.
They sat in a loose ring on the patch of grass they always did, under the climbing trellises and trees. Even after he introduced himself—and with Luke tied so tightly into the Force, it was easy to tell that that was not a lie, but not wholly true either—he was suspicious.
But he closed his eyes and continued meditating anyway. "I'm Luke."
"I know." Ben smiled even more warmly. Luke didn't trust it—not in the way he'd immediately trusted Ahsoka. "Ahsoka asked me here just to talk to you, and observe some of your lessons, to ensure she was teaching well."
"She's teaching really well." Luke glanced at her, surprised. "Why would she need you?"
Ahsoka laughed softly. Ben said, "She is doing very well, I agree. But she cares that she's doing it the best she can, so here I am."
"I..." He bit his lip. "I guess that makes sense."
"Do you not want me here?"
"I don't know you."
Ben bowed his head. "Then that is an understandable sentiment. I hope to earn your trust."
Luke... relaxed. Despite himself.
But...
"You're still not telling me the whole truth," he observed. "Tell it to me."
Ben raised his eyebrows, and exchanged a glance with Ahsoka. She laughed at him; his face collapsed into a huff of amusement and he said, "Very well. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, though I do prefer to be called Ben."
Wait.
Obi—
Obi-Wan—
Obi-Wan Kenobi!?
"Are you my father?" Luke burst out.
Ben froze.
Stared at him for a second.
Then he laughed. "Your father?"
"Yes," Luke said. It... came out as whinier than he intended. "My birth father, that is, Vader and Nova won't tell me who he was—is—but I know you were close to my mother, and—"
"Ah. I understand." Ben shifted his hands off his knees to place them in his lap. "I knew Padmé, yes. We both did." He gestured between himself and Ahsoka, and Luke stared, a thousand questions bubbling up for them both— "But no. I am not your father. I was never involved with her like that."
"Only with Satine," Ahsoka murmured.
Ben gave a melancholy smile. "Only with Satine," he confirmed. Whatever that meant.
Luke said, "Oh."
He'd...
He blinked away tears. He'd been so sure. He'd been so sure, and now...
Now he was back to square one.
"So," he asked anyway, desperate for any clues, "do you know who—"
"Now," Ben said quickly; Luke narrowed his eyes at the suspicious interruption, "I apologise for so rudely interrupting all your attempts at meditation with my presence like this. But could you demonstrate to me what Ahsoka has already—"
There was an explosion in the Force.
Luke flinched bodily. Ahsoka and Ben took a moment longer to register what was happening, but even they couldn't miss it as those tight tendrils of darkness flooded the garden—his sanctuary, where he'd never wanted them—and in stormed Vader. He glanced at Luke briefly, then glared at Ahsoka, and then to Ben—
"Obi-Wan," he hissed.
Ben—Obi-Wan?—lifted his chin. "Hello, Darth," he greeted politely.
"You—"
"If you're going to have a fight," Ahsoka interrupted, tension lining her voice, "then can you leave the garden? This is meant to be a peaceful place."
Luke let out a breath. He loved Ahsoka so much.
Vader did not share the sentiment. "You," he boomed, his finger coming out to jab forcefully in her direction, "you let him in here."
"I did," she snapped. "Out of the garden. Now."
Luke winced and watched as they filed out, one at a time. That did not mean he didn't sense it when they finally reached a suitable room and exploded again; he stopped meditating, withdrew from the Force, so that he didn't sense it in more detail than he had to.
But that also meant that when it came, he didn't sense the acute flare of danger.
"How dare you come here!" Vader roared. The conference room Ahsoka had ushered them into was empty, and good riddance; his rage shattered the holoprojector, sending splinters of glass flying all over the room. "You destroyed everything else, Kenobi, and now you want to—"
"Protect my late friend's son from the Sith Lord who tormented him for fourteen years?" Obi-Wan said coolly. None of the glass hit him; he guided it away from himself with ease. "Of course. Padmé would have—"
"Don't you dare mention her to me! Not when you stole our son and let him grow up under— under—"
For the first time, Obi-Wan looked pained. "I thought that Luke was safe on Tatooine," he said harshly. "I left for one week to run an errand, and when I came back he was gone and his aunt and uncle were dead."
"You failed to protect him once. Why should you have the right to try again?"
"You had fourteen years to protect him, and you did nothing but hurt him. Why should you have the right to try again?"
"You—"
"You two are just shouting at each other at each other like children." Ahsoka crossed her arms, cocking her head belligerently. "Is this going to help anything?"
Very, very slowly, Vader turned to face her.
"I trusted you with my son," he said, voice deadly quiet, "and you brought him in."
"Luke thought that Obi-Wan was his father," Ahsoka shot back. "He's now been cured of that idea, and isn't that something you should thank Obi-Wan for?"
Vader spluttered.
Marched away, reaching for his lightsaber—do not impale them do no impale them Luke will not forgive you if you hurt Ahsoka—then moving his hand away, to clench it into a fist.
"I have informed him of the ridiculousness of that idea before."
"But he certainly didn't believe you."
"Why did you let him in here?" Vader demanded, glaring at Obi-Wan again. "You knew that I did not want him here. You knew that it would not be well-received."
Ahsoka shrugged. "I needed him. I'm no Jedi. I'm not the best teacher. I needed help."
"You do not need help. You never have. And from what I have heard from Luke, you have been doing especially well. The fact that you are no Jedi is an advantage." Another glare at Obi-Wan.
Ahsoka... paused at that. Looked at him. Smiled a little.
"I should kill you," Vader told Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka's smile dropped, "for what you did to Luke—to Padmé."
"It was not I who did anything to Padmé—"
"But I have no wish to do anything that could possibly distress Luke," he snarled. "So you will leave this palace. Leave us here, never bother us again, and perhaps I will not chop off all of your limbs like you did to me."
"Wait." Ahsoka looked alarmed. "Obi-Wan, you did what—"
Vader pointed a finger at the door. "Get. Out."
And then the Force crashed around them.
Warning.
A warning, a warning, a warning, a warning, a warning—
And the fury—the fear—that gripped Vader was worse than he'd felt when he sensed Luke's devastation earlier. Worse than when he'd sensed Obi-Wan, in that garden.
"Luke..." Ahsoka said. "He's alone in the—"
Vader was already running.
Whoever they were, there were so many of them.
They were back in a flash, Vader's lightsaber already lit and carving through assailants the moment he stormed out the door, the others right on his heels.
Just like old times, he thought bitterly.
Kenobi wasted time removing his robe as he always did, but then he threw it at the nearest attacker and blinded them. In their confusion, Vader swung his lightsaber down.
Then all that remained was the robe.
Kenobi nodded at him. Vader ignored him.
In the corner of the room, Luke screamed.
His heart jack hammered when he heard it, turning away from Kenobi—the man had wasted time tossing off his robe, as he always did, and now the attacker they'd tried to tackle together had dodged out of the way—to sprint over to his son.
Luke was dodging between trees, clutching his arm tightly; was it injured? Had he wrenched it? Had they caught hold of him and then—
The garden was flooded with enemies. How had so many people got in here by surprise? And how had they come so close as—
"Get to Luke," Ahsoka shouted at him, running over to where three troopers were grappling with a— was that an Inquisitor? Vader had known they'd vanished after Palpatine's death, but he'd never thought—
—of course he should have thought—
Several Noghri guards had dived in and backed up with Luke into a corner, their grey faces twisted in snarls as they whirled and dived around the approaching Inquisitors, meeting their saber strikes unflinchingly. Luke was pale, increasingly so; when he lifted his gaze to clap his eyes on Vader, his fear suddenly crashed through the Force, like an avalanche or a sonic boom. Vader strode forwards faster, and then...
Luke screamed as an Inquisitor slipped over the roof to drop into the corner of the garden, right behind Luke, landing on feet as soft as a tooka's and—
The lightsaber at Luke's throat was red, and Vader saw red.
He marched forwards. The Inquisitor's helmet hissed open, to reveal a grinning Mirialan woman with a handful of freckles on her face, crooning, "Not any closer, Lord Vader, we—"
But her saber was not too close to Luke's throat. They couldn't risk damaging the Emperor's future vessel, their future master. So Vader seized the Force, wrapped it around them both, and snapped her neck.
She collapsed to the floor with only a grunt of pain. Luke jerked viscerally away at the crack, nearly impaling himself on that blasted lightsaber; he collapsed to his knees, shaking.
Then he reached to pick up that lightsaber, even as it trembled in his grip, his pale eyes alight and brilliant amidst the slaughter. Vader was only distantly aware of Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, the troopers and the Noghri shouting to each other. They were irrelevant.
All that mattered was the way Luke tried to rise to his feet, and nearly collapsed. He thumbed the activation button; it burst to life, like a spurt of blood.
When he glared at the attackers, whose bodies were now invading his garden and polluting it, lying across the ground like fertiliser, Vader was... unsettled to see that sort of anger in his eyes.
"Majesty," Vader said, calmly but firmly, "we need to get you to a safe house.
That gaze snapped to him. "A safe house? They're invading—"
"Yes. They have the—" There was no time for this. The Force thrummed warnings constantly; Vader lunged forwards and grabbed Luke by the arm, his biceps so small and fragile under Vader's durasteel grip, and dragged him out of there, locking to door to the garden behind him. It wouldn't stop them, not an Inquisitor, but—
"They have invaded your palace, Majesty," he spat, dragging Luke along the corridor at a breakneck speed, his own thoughts whirling even faster. "They wish you harm, and they wish everyone else harm as well. They will be dealt with, but the most pertinent thing to do now is to get you to the bunker where we can wait out the attack."
"I need to f—"
"You are not trained, little angel, and you are the most important person here." Vader dragged him around a corner and finally Luke stopped fighting him, started matching his pace and his steps. He knew where the bunker was, after all. "You must stay safe. I cannot lose you."
He tried to amend, "We cannot lose you," but Luke had already heard it.
So the boy just blinked at that confession, then they were in front of the vast doors and Vader was flinging them open with the Force. When he glanced back, some of Luke's—well, his, 501st—red guards had followed them; one of them entered first, while the other watched their backs as they followed. "You—"
"Kenobi and Ahsoka are more than capable of handling it," Vader said. His voice was a fraying thread; he had never been more grateful for the vocoder. "We will stay here until they report to us—through the Force; we cannot trust communications right now—that all is clear. The Inquisitors can fake a comm message, but not a Force signature."
"We?" Luke said, with something like... Vader didn't know what it was, awe or apprehension or anger. "You're—" The door slammed shut and locked firmly, with Vader decidedly still inside the bunker.
He glanced around. It was bright in here—the lights flickered on once the door closed—with several safes' worth of supplies, emergency weapons, utilities... There was one chair, for the Emperor to sit in. Vader guided him over to it.
"Of course I will stay, little angel," he said. "I trust my men. But I could not bear to lose you. I am needed here more than I am needed out there." He added, "The Noghri will do their jobs, and they will do them well."
Luke took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Okay, thank you."
He suddenly reached up and seized Vader's gloved hand in both of his, eyes wide. "Thank you."
Vader unclasped their hands awkwardly. "It is nothing," he tried to say, but when Luke looked away, tears filling his eyes as he examined the rest of the small room... Vader had to admit.
Knowing that his son was grateful he was there... that was not nothing.
That was everything.
The armoured door of the bunker sealed shut with an ominous thud, and then there was only Vader's breathing breaking the silence.
Luke was alone with the man.
It was like his worst nightmares, he registered dimly. But this time it was real.
Luke found his own breath quickening.
"Luke?" Vader asked immediately, stepping forwards. Luke cringed back into his seat, panicking. "Luke, little angel, are you—"
"This is all my worst nightmare," he said breathlessly. "This— being trapped in a room with you—"
Vader seemed to deflate at that, shrinking back into himself. "I... understand, Majesty, I—"
"—but it's not the worst anymore," he babbled on. "He's going to take my body. He's going to take my body and crush my soul, and there's nothing I can do about it."
"Luke—"
Luke met his gaze, sucking deep, desperate breaths in and out of his lungs like a panicked bird, staring. Vader reached for his hands and took them gently; when Luke squeezed them as hard as he could, hard enough to crush and splinter, he suspected that Vader's durasteel fingers felt nothing.
"I will protect you," Vader promised.
"And what if you fail?" Luke snapped. "What if they strike while you're not there? I'm too weak to protect myself, I'm nothing, he'll just take what he wants and—"
"Luke," Vader said. "Even if I am not there, you are not weak. You will not give into him—I know that much. You are so strong, little angel."
"I'm a terrible emperor and a terrible Force-wielder. I'm not strong in any way, shape or form. I—"
"You are strong. You are bold and brave and brilliant—you always have been. I... resented you for it, when you were younger," Vader's vocoder stuttered as he tried to get the words out, and Luke was just as shocked at that, "but that was petty and weak on my part, especially when I took those frustrations out on you. You are strong—in the Force, stronger than even your father was, so, so strong... but in other ways as well. Your kindness, your love, your compassion. Your friends, Organa and Veers, know it. Sabé knows it. I know it. You are so brave, and you have been dealt such a bad hand, and you have dealt with it better than anyone else ever could."
Luke looked up at him, wide-eyed. He was too surprised to panic, now, at hearing that.
Vader leaned in slightly. Funnily enough, it came off as reassuring and not just... leering or intimidating, with his black death mask.
"You are strong, Majesty," he promised. "Ahsoka has told me as much—you are diligent, and focused, and your progress in these mere few days is stunning. Sabé as well tells me of your skill and sensitivity when conducting those meetings with those senators. Even the disgusting ones." He let a part of his distaste for them seep into his voice; were he any less frightened, Luke would have giggled, but instead the corners of his mouth just tilted upwards.
"You should not write yourself off," Vader continued, softer; his vocoder didn't pick up the softness but the Force, and therefore Luke, did. "You are a phenomenal human being. And while I would like nothing more than for you to be safe, to stay in the Palace away from all these dangers, and while I will try to keep you from these dangers until my last dying breath, I know that you are capable of handling them yourself.
"You are capable and clever enough to find a way, little angel. So while your fear is justified here, you need not dwell on it. Trust yourself, and the Force, that your destiny contains a happier path than the one you have already walked." He placed a hesitant hand on Luke's shoulder; Luke leaned into it, and sensed his relief. "And trust that your mother would be so, so proud of you."
A hitch in his breathing. "Trust that..." he said. "Trust that both your parents are proud of you. Immensely. Wherever they are."
Luke blinked back tears. It failed; they flooded his cheeks and he gasped, staring at the dark lord through swimming sight. He sobbed.
"Can—" He stopped, then swallowed. "Can you tell me about them? Her," he amended hastily, not wanting to cause an argument again, not wanting to be reminded just how many secrets that even Vader, when he was trying to be as sweet and supportive as a Sith Lord could possibly be, was hiding from him— "Can you tell me about her? I've heard things from Nova, but—"
"But you wish for a different perspective?" Vader guessed. Luke nodded shyly. "Of course, little angel. She..."
There was a pause. Luke, despite his tears, despite the emotion he could sense from Vader—and strange, that was, that he could sense something from Vader so very, very strongly, that there was some bond between them that had forged from care and dedication and whispered promises after years of estrangement—that reminded him of tears... he thought Vader might have been smiling.
"Padmé," he said, taking a moment to revel in just saying her name, "was... the first person I called an angel. You... remind me of her greatly, in that respect, little one. I first met her when I was nine years old, when she was being accompanied by Jedi—that... that was how I became a Jedi, in fact. She was kind to me, perhaps one of the kindest people I'd ever met, and then I offered her help and her Jedi guard recognised me as Force-sensitive. But she was the most important thing that came out of that encounter."
Luke blinked. It... it was fascinating, really, how Vader refused to talk about himself, but the more Luke's mother was referenced... he put pieces of his own backstory into that story as well.
"I didn't see her for a few years after that, but I still thought about her. She was the Queen of Naboo, as you know, until she was eighteen, and she became the most popular monarch they'd had in modern history. The Naboo even tried to amend their constitution so that she could serve longer, but she refused, and stepped down. She went on to serve as a senator—"
"Wait." Luke frowned. "She— she was offered the chance to become an autocratic leader of a planet, she was that popular, but she refused? She believed in democracy that much?"
"She..." Vader sounded like he was getting out the words through gritted teeth, but he evidently knew that what he didn't say, Sabé would. "...did. Yes."
Luke bowed his head. "I'm an emperor," he said quietly. "She—"
"Little angel," Vader said. "She wanted what was best for the galaxy. That was all she ever wanted. In the time that she was eighteen, what was best for Naboo was democracy. In this uncertain time, as well as in the wake of the failures of the Republic, the galaxy was and is still in need of a firm hand. She was... reluctant to accept it, at first, and ultimately died her untimely death before she came to, but I know that you will do just as well."
Luke didn't look up. Vader apparently felt the need to reiterate: "I know you will do what is best for the galaxy, just as she did. You have her heart."
"Will I?" Luke asked. "I don't even know what's best for the galaxy. I don't even know what's best for me."
"Well, do you believe in the Empire?" Vader pointed out, like there was no question to it at all.
But Luke hesitated.
"I was never taught anything different," he said. He could almost see Vader narrowing his eyes behind that mask at the noncommittal answer. He could sense the guards shift around him. "But from what I can tell... it hurts a lot of people. I don't know if I believe in it at all."
Vader stared.
"You..." he began. Rage crashed into his voice, then evaporated like morning mist. Luke supposed he appreciated the effort? "You have been spending time with Sabé's friends, the Organas, I see."
Luke frowned. "A little bit. Why?"
"Nothing, little angel." Vader's teeth were definitely gritted there. "Senator Organa was close friends with your mother."
Luke perked up. "He—"
"I will not disapprove of this... dalliance. But I would suggest you speak in more depth to General Veers, when he teaches you to work with the blaster. He may provide you with an alternate view on the galaxy and the Empire's place in it."
Luke frowned. "You mean the only view I've ever been taught? That it brings stability and security after the chaos of the Republic? I know that view. It's all I know."
"Then why doubt it?"
Luke grimaced. "Why doubt my father?" he shot back, and Vader winced in understanding.
"I do not know what to tell you, little angel," Vader said at last. "I believe in the Empire. I know that Lady Sabé does not. Whether you do or not is something only you can decide. You are the Emperor."
"What if I don't want to be?"
Vader didn't say anything for a long time in response to that admission. Finally, he just said, "You are the Emperor, Majesty. You choose where to go from here."
"And what if I choose wrong?"
"You will not. Your mother never did, and you are too much like her."
And from the way Vader said that, there was nothing more to it.
Luke hesitated.
He wanted to ask.
He needed to ask, but…
But what?
Vader was ere with him.
He asked.
"Suppose..."
He paused and licked his lips, for they seemed very dry all of a sudden.
"Suppose you had known about me. From the beginning. About my mother I mean. Would... would things have been different?" He raised a hand when Vader strode towards him, the feelings overwhelming him. "I know you loved her. But would you... would you have loved me?"
Vader was silent for a moment after he asked, which set Luke's heart hammering—sent him swallowing, regretting even asking, shifting as far away from the man as he could without vacating the throne. No, kark that—he'd started learning swear words from Crown of Stars—he threw himself out of the chair and paced, hands twitching, ignoring the looks the guards were giving him—
Vader had loved his mother, that was true. But he'd hated his father. He would probably have hated Luke, as evidence that Padmé had loved someone else, as everything he'd never had, and it was beyond the realm of acceptable or wise to just... ask the man to lie to him so that the little emperor would stop fretting—
"Little angel." Vader's voice halted him in his tracks. "Of course I would have."
Luke blinked. Then he turned and stared.
Vader took a tentative step forward. Then another one, then another one. Until he was less than a metre away, Luke had to tilt his head back to look him in the mask, and he placed his heavy hand on his bony shoulder.
"I..." Vader struggled for a moment, before he said, "I do love you, little angel."
Luke blinked again. Tears welled and broke like waves over his cheeks, and before he knew it his face was soaked.
But Vader's hand was an anchor holding him steady.
"More than anything else in this galaxy," Vader promised, and more tears came when he felt the truth of it in the Force—felt the vastness of the truth of it, like a bottomless well, like the ferocity of a thousand suns that burned with truth and affection and— "I love you."
Luke stared at him.
Stared some more.
Then without so much as thinking, he threw himself forwards and smushed his face against Vader's armour.
Vader jerked back for a moment, but Luke just held on tighter, and then he made a burst of noise that neither Luke nor his vocoder could interpret, and—
He bent over, wrapping his arms around Luke's torso and hugged him back.
Vader crouched to his knees so he could get a better angle, so Luke was about half a head taller than him, and hugged him tighter than Luke had hugged his bantha toy the day Nova had left. Luke slotted his face into the crook of his neck.
"There do not exist words," Vader murmured, "to express the regret and agony I feel, at knowing that I have hurt you, my—" He swallowed. "You are brave, and strong, and brilliant. I said it moments ago, I will say it forever: Your parents would be so proud of you." His breathing hitched. "I... am so, so proud of you.
"I know you are afraid, little angel. I am too. The thought of losing you, is... abhorrent. I could not live with myself if I let you get hurt again." He pulled back from the hug just enough that they could look each other in the eye and a gentle hand came up to wipe away another tear from Luke's cheek. Luke just stared at him, his mask a black blur, eyes glistening and glowing. "So I will not let it happen. Sabé loves you just as much as I do, and neither will she. Ahsoka has barely met you, but already she would lay down her life for you."
Luke snorted wetly. "She told you that?"
"She did not have to. She was my padawan, when I was still a Jedi. I know her well."
A thousand more questions bubbled up onto Luke's lips but he just stared, and Vader stared back.
"Destiny has not been kind to you so far," Vader admitted. "And neither have I. But never doubt that you are loved, little angel."
Luke nodded.
"And," Vader added fiercely, "never doubt that you are loveable."
Luke burst into sobs.
Vader just held him for an age, occasionally murmuring soothing words, occasionally moving his hard, heavy hands up and down Luke's back like Nova did when she held him.
"The commotion outside has died down," he said at last. There was a flicker of light in the Force, then— "Ahsoka has contacted me. She reports that all attackers have been neutralised and captured. It is safe, Majesty."
He pushed Luke away from him lightly, and put him back to stand firmly on his feet. "You are safe."
"For now."
"Yes," Vader agreed. "For now. Tomorrow, you will be even stronger than you already are, and therefore even safer. And the same goes for every day after that."
He tilted his helmet towards the door. "Would you like to return to your rooms, now?"
"Yes." Luke sniffled. "I... thank you, Lord—" He took a deep breath, and smiled a broad, watery smile up at him, his chest full to bursting with... some feeling he couldn't quite name.
It was good, though. It was bright, and soft, and full of warmth.
"Thank you, Vader," he whispered. Vader said nothing—just reached for the thin jacket Luke had been wearing over his plain, dull training clothes, and handed it to him to dry his face with, humming when Luke looked presentable again.
Nova and Ahsoka descended on him the moment he left the bunker, and he let them fuss. His head throbbed from... all of this, but... he found a smile gracing his lips nonetheless.
Attacks had become commonplace. Nothing illustrated that more than the fact that Vader was away again, shoring up the defences again, and the scene of Luke curled up in his room being comforted was a familiar one.
Luke curled into himself even further, clutching his stuffed animal. Nova draped a blanket over his shoulders and, with a gentle hand, began to stroke his hair.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice as quiet as the rain that pattered against his window. He shifted his head on his pillow to glance at her, her warm eyes glowing in the yellow lamplight. "You feel feverish."
"I'm fine," he croaked. "This was just all..." He frowned.
"Stressful?" she suggested softly. "Scary?"
"Confusing," he whispered back. She... frowned, and hesitated, but nodded.
"I understand. Do you think you want to continue Jedi training?"
Luke hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I... I like Ahsoka. She protected me."
"She did."
"What's Vader going to do with Ben?"
Nova... hesitated. Sighed gently, and grimaced. "I don't know, little emperor," she said, and Luke was suddenly struck vividly by how similar that term of affection was to little angel. "But Ben protected you too. From what I saw—"
"You were there?" Luke asked. "You— you were—"
"I was fighting, yes." Her lips curled upwards in a slight smile; she patted her waist, where he knew she kept her slim blaster, primed and ready. Some fancy pants from Naboo, Luke remembered Veers had said. He smiled at the thought. "My job is to look after you, Luke, and that includes shooting any attempted kidnappers straight through the skull."
He flinched at the brutal imagery but also took a sort of savage pleasure from it. "You could've been hurt."
"And you could've been taken. That was more important to me."
Luke bit his lip. "Vader..." he tried. "Vader said that he had faith that I could defend myself, if I needed to—that destiny would end up being on my side."
"I agree with him. You could. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do everything in my power to stop you from having to."
Luke blinked. He took her hand gently, when she finally lowered it from his head, and stared right into her eyes. Nova looked almost exactly like his mother, he remembered—she'd been one of her handmaidens. Would she have done this, sat here and comforted him, had she lived?
All he had were crumbs of her. He would never know her in person. But he thought he knew the answer to that—and the answer warmed his heart.
Luke lowered his chin. "I..." He trailed off, but when Nova arched one delicate eyebrow he found the courage to finish, "I thought he might've been being... overdramatic."
"Vader? Always. Doesn't mean it's not true."
Luke huffed. "Over... optimistic."
"Vader?" Nova teased again. "Never. I don't think optimism is in that man's nature—not unless it's coupled with denial. He knows what he's talking about, and he doesn't lie. He doesn't need to."
Luke smiled a little, then, and sank back against his pillows. Nova pulled the duvet out from under him then tucked it sharply up to his chin, the way she hadn't since he was little. "Sleep well, little emperor," she said softly, then stood from her perch on his bed. He snuggled into his bed and reached for his tooka. And his nexu. And his bantha. They were crushed against his side like lumpy pillows, but they helped him sleep better than anything.
She flicked off the lamps and he was plunged into darkness. Only a sliver of gold came through from under the door; when she opened it—it was a hinge door, not an automatic one, in the old-time grandeur the whole quarters were done up in—more spilled in. He saw the grey, scaled faces of his Noghri guards standing sentinel beyond it, and then...
"A moment, please," Vader said softly, slipping past Nova to enter. Luke... smiled up at him, unabashedly if not necessarily broadly, and he thought he heard that infamous breathing hitch.
"A few more gifts, little angel," Vader said. His vocoder was not designed to be soft but once again, somehow, it was—Luke bowed his head, tucking his chin against his chest peacefully, lowering his gaze to see...
"No ribbon and note this time, Vader?" he teased, and Vader huffed.
"I dared to hope that... we may be beyond that, Majesty."
"We are." Luke reached for the two stuffed animals Vader was offering and clasped them in his hands. Both pale against the darkness, one was a bipedal... lizard-like thing with curved horns, and the other looked like a furry snowman. "I don't know those animals," he admitted.
"A tauntaun and a wampa. They are commonly found on the ice planet Hoth—they feature in a children's holonet show, I'm told."
"Who told you that?"
Vader shifted where he stood. "A shop assistant."
"You go to the shops yourself?"
"Not always. Not at first. But I did this time."
Luke didn't know whether to laugh at the image of that poor assistant's face, or beam at the thoughtfulness. He settled for both.
Then he sat up, his other toys shifting at his back, and wrapped his arms around Vader's torso.
He'd hugged the dark lord a lot in the last few hours. Strangely, he didn't think Vader minded.
"Thank you," he said earnestly. "I won't let you down."
"What?" Vader's vocoder spat out static. "Why would you think you would, little angel?"
"Just. In general. You... you said you were proud of me, earlier." He looked up at him, eyes shining. "I won't let you down."
Vader returned the embrace then, for a moment, before carefully guiding him to lie back down on the bed. Luke wasn't sure if he was imagining the stab of concern he sensed when Vader brushed the Force over his mind.
"Believe me, Luke. You never could."
"My official diagnosis?"
The doctor let the door slide shut. The view of the feverish, too-pale and only fitfully sleeping child Emperor vanished.
"He's a young man who has been through a series of traumatic events."
Vader flinched.
He'd summoned this doctor to tell it to him straight, but… it was still difficult to hear.
"He's worked himself into a fever. What he needs now is a fever reducer, fluids, and plenty of rest." The doctor's significant glance at Vader was enough to remind him that he'd chosen the man for his dedication to his practice, not politics. "And reduced stress moving forward. Good day, Lord Vader."
Vader watched him turn around and exit Luke's quarters, then glanced back towards Luke's closed door. He'd known that Luke... didn't seem well, despite his apparent peace and joy at what Vader had told him, and he wasn't necessarily surprised at the doctor's proclamation, but...
Hmph.
It was hard not to feel singled out by it.
"I know how we should proceed," Sabé said from her perch on the sofa, one knee thrown regally over the other, her burgundy and gold dress falling in waves around them.
"Let him rest?" Vader drawled. Sabé's gaze bore a hole into him.
"Yes," she said. "And let him relax."
"He should be more relaxed from now on. I reassured him that I would allow no one to kill him. I reassured him that I would not kill him."
"You have done that before."
"Yes, but..." Vader trailed off, gaze inexorably drawn back towards the door, and the child emperor sleeping fitfully behind it. "He believes it, now. At last."
"He would have believed it a lot sooner had you told him the truth, Anakin."
Vader clenched his fists. "He— he would have rejected me."
"And now?" Sabé's intensity was far too much like... hers. "And now, when he trusts you, when he knows that you love him? Why not tell him now?"
Vader swallowed.
Why not tell him now? Why not tell him in the bunker, that afternoon? It was the perfect moment. It would have assuaged Luke's fears with ease. It would have added extra weight to his claim and really driven it home.
But he had not told him.
Luke's experiences of fathers were far from pleasant. He... he deserved better—far better—than the realisation that his birth father, the mysterious man he was turning to now, away from Palpatine, was also one of those men who had made his childhood a living hell.
He deserved a better father than Vader.
So Vader would be Luke's protector. He would be his guardian. He would be anything the boy wanted him to be.
And he knew full well that more than anything, the space to imagine his true father as some hero was what Luke needed—not the crushing truth that both of his fathers had been monsters.
"It would not help him," was all he said aloud, pretty damn cryptically, but he could tell that she didn't buy it for a second. Instead of waiting for her to say as much, he just snapped: "So? Was that all you had to your master plan?"
"Of course not." Sabé folded her hands in her lap. "I want to take him to Naboo."
Vader blinked.
"I told you," he said heatedly, "you are not taking my son away from—"
"From whom, Lord Vader?" She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "From you?"
"...from the Empire," he said weakly. She rolled her eyes.
"I do not mean in the sense that I want to take him away from the Empire, and being Emperor altogether," she said. "Though I do want that, and I maintain that that is what would be best for him. I simply think he should be allowed to go on holiday."
Vader stared.
"Holiday..." He shook his head. "Holiday?"
"I am sure it is an alien a concept to you as rain was when you first left Tatooine," Sabé drawled, and Vader flinched. He remembered that moment, that first trip to Naboo when they were desperately trying to save the planet. He remembered standing in the woods under a smattering of rain and seeing how the handmaidens had cooed over his delight. "So I will put it in a more Sith-like matter. Let Luke go on a retreat. To rejuvenate his... his enjoyment of life, his love for life, in the wake of this highly stressful situation he's been in for the last weeks, months..." She fixed him with a look. "Years.
"The Naberries have left Varykino in my care since Padmé passed; I can take Luke there—you had to serve as Padmé's bodyguard there, you know it's easily defendable—and he can enjoy himself there. He can relax, and act like the kid he deserves to be."
"No," Vader said immediately. "I will not allow Luke to be on a different planet to me—not at this time. You are a fool for even thinking it."
"No. I was thinking you would come with us. Don't you want to show your son where you got married?"
Vader's breathing hitched.
"You—" He balled his hands into fists. Because that... that was unquestionably worse. "You wish for me to revisit that place?"
Without her? was the unspoken question.
Sabé was unflinching. "Yes."
Vader growled, low and long in his throat. Then he paced.
"No. I cannot allow this."
"It's what would be best for Luke," she snapped. "Are you too blinded by your own emotions towards everything you used to love to see that?"
Vader said nothing.
"Don't you want to see your son happy?"
"Of course I do," he snapped. "But nor do I want to see my son kidnapped."
"And not do you want to revisit memories you have spent so long repressing."
"You presume too much."
"I think I presume the precise amount." She stood. "Come with me."
Vader stared at her as he strode into Luke's room, leaving the door open behind her. The Noghri twitched at her entrance, but didn't stop her.
"Come on, Vader," she said. "Don't be shy."
He growled again, but followed, skimming Luke's mind with the Force; he was still asleep. He wouldn't wake just by them entering.
Sabé gestured at his sleeping face. The way he clutched his new wampa toy tightly to his chest, curving around it like a snail shell. There was a small stress furrow between his brows; even in his sleep, he knew he was hunted.
"Don't you want to see him happy?" Sabé murmured again. "He'll be far, far happier on Naboo than he ever was on Coruscant—and you know it, Anakin."
Heart clenching in his chest, Vader turned away.
She sighed. "You," she declared, "are an idiot."
Vader stayed staring away. He couldn't look at Luke. He couldn't look at Sabé.
"Are you truly that weak that you'll deny your son his happiness just so you don't have to remember your wife? Because I know full well that's what this is about. And I know that it's useless, because you think about her every blasted time you look at him anyway!"
She was right.
Vader hated it. Hated it with every fibre of his being. Even thinking about that planet hurt—travelling there for Luke's tour of the Empire had been agonising, but at least he'd made sure that they never spent too much time there. With Luke at Varykino, of all places...
...Luke would finally be happy.
He would be happy, there.
The Force had a cruel sense of humour, he thought.
"Very well," he said, turning and striding for the door. "Make the arrangements. We will leave before the end of the week."
"Where are you going?"
He hesitated at the door. "To talk to Kenobi."
Obi-Wan was meditating with Ahsoka in the garden, clearly trying to find some peace after the violence of the earlier attack. Vader did not bother to knock, or announce his presence; the Force did that perfectly well for him.
That didn't mean that Obi-Wan bothered to acknowledge him, however. Vader strode right over to them, interrupting their little circle, and Obi-Wan didn't even open his eyes as he said, "From what Ahsoka has told me, this garden is important to Luke's spiritual and mental wellbeing. If you are intending to kill me, as much as I'd appreciate my last view being something of this beauty, please give me the opportunity to move elsewhere so as not to sully this place for him."
"I am not going to kill you," Vader ground out.
Obi-Wan frowned. He did open his eyes, then, to give him a sharp look. "You are not? How unexpected."
"On both our parts," Vader drawled. "But you protected my son."
"Your son who thought he was my son."
Vader ignored him—ignored the pointed question disguised as a barb. "I am aware that you only did it because you wish to use his power, to use him to restart the Jedi and turn him against the Empire."
"I protected him because he is a person and he is worth protecting, Darth."
"But you did protect him. And I do not think he would be happy to learn you were dead."
"Ah. Not going to risk your monopoly over him on my account?"
Vader growled, "Leave, Kenobi. Leave, and find other Force-sensitives to restart your precious order. I know they are still out there, and with the Inquisitors focused on capturing Luke for Palpatine, they are no longer being hunted. Get out of my sight, and I will allow you to conduct your operations in peace."
Obi-Wan stared. "You..." He blinked. "You destroyed the Jedi Order. You are willing to let me bring it back?"
"I am not. I dislike the idea immensely. But as long as you stay far away from my son, I consider it a small price to pay."
Obi-Wan pinched his lips. Swallowed.
"And what if Luke wants to become a Jedi, one day?" Ahsoka asked. He'd almost forgotten she was there. The three of them, together again. "Does your newfound peace extend to that?"
Vader snorted. "Are you teaching him to be a Jedi?"
"No. I'm teaching him the Force."
"Good. Then he will not be blinded by their dogmatic ideals and will not want to indoctrinate himself into them." Obi-Wan gave him a look. Vader glared right back. "The Jedi are weak. I would not be allowing this if I thought you had a chance of succeeding, or of becoming a plausible threat."
"The Jedi stood for ten thousand years."
"And they fell in three." Not true, but... well.
Obi-Wan just sighed. He knew that sigh; he could practically hear the Anakin that would have ordinarily followed.
But he didn't say Anakin. He just said, "I cut off all your remaining limbs and left you to burn to death on Mustafar. And you are going to let me go without a fuss?"
"Yes," Vader ground out.
"Simply because of Luke?"
He hated this man. He despised him with every fibre of his being— "Yes."
"This is not a ploy to find and exterminate the Jedi for real. This is not a change of heart towards the Jedi you slaughtered. This is just because Luke would be upset if he learned that you had killed me?"
"Yes. Now get out of this palace before I regret it."
Obi-Wan smiled, but dutifully rose to his feet. "You are no Sith, Darth," he said, and practically waltzed out of the garden.
Ahsoka smiled. "What?" he growled.
"Nothing," she said, and closed her eyes. He sensed her sink back into the folds of the Force. "Nothing at all. How is Luke?"
"Asleep. The doctor has diagnosed him as feverish with extreme stress."
"I can imagine. This is your solution?"
"No."
She opened her eyes again, and those bright blue irises peered up at him, far too much like Luke's. "So what is your solution?"
He gritted his teeth.
"We are going to Naboo. You will be accompanying us."
Ahsoka snorted, and it made him want to stab something.